


Our Lady Of The Upside Down

by Borusa



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hadestown (Musical)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borusa/pseuds/Borusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Hades and Persephone met. A retelling of the myth, set in the world of Anais Mitchell's Hadestown folk opera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Lady Of The Upside Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luzula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/gifts).



Hey there, brother. Oh, come _on_ , now’s not the time to be looking away. That was earlier, when your eyes fixed on me like you were drowning and I was the only person around here with a life-preserver. I guess I am, in a way. You’re new to town, aren’t you? Don’t worry, we all were once. I’ll give you a nudge in some of the right directions, a bit of a steer... Oh, now I cannot _believe_ you asked me that. I am _not_ nice. And as for how I got here... Well, yeah, actually. Maybe that’ll help you get this place. Now go and get me a shot of the usual, and then I’ll tell you.

***

The limo’s tyres crunched and bumped on the decaying road surface, jumping from pothole to pothole, stretching the limit of even the once-luxury car’s impressive suspension. Hades looked out of the tinted window, through his own tinted glasses. It made the world look dark, but both provided useful protection, these days. Even in the darkness of Hadestown, he wore shades. It added to the effect of his poker face, made it easier to read people, to push them, to intimidate them. Sure, it was ruthless, but nobody else had carved much out of this wrecked land. Some prices were worth paying, for safety, for security, for civilisation and order.

“Hey boss.” His reverie was broken by Jimmy’s piping voice. Hades turned his head slowly towards the henchman.

“I was just wondering...” Jimmy’s words were faltering, rather, as if he was already thinking better of asking but had committed to the sentence and wasn’t quite sure how to get out of it. “What are we doing up here? We must be fifty miles from home.”

“Visiting the neighbours,” Hades replied, his voice only just audible above the road rumble outside. “Heard that the lady who lives here has been feeding the poor, the weary, the huddled masses, out of some roadside diner. Just want to say hello. Pay my respects.” It was sensible to keep a close eye on the source of any strange rumours near his domain. Particularly when the source was one of the few people who had the capability of threatening his rule. Yes, it was worth a visit. Just out of politeness.

The car came to a stop outside of the gutted remnants of a Greyhound bus. The tyres were long flat, and the underside had come to rest firmly against the ground. But the silver metal roof shone in the sunlight, and the sides were freshly painted. The bus company name had been removed and a sign hung over the space. _Demeter’s Diner._ Around the sides, plants blossomed from boxes. Hades took a deep breath and climbed out of the car, looking around.

“Wait here,” he told Jimmy, who was holding the door open with an eagerness that bordered on the unprofessional. Slowly, Hades walked around the bus, noticing the stovepipe steaming slightly. And noticing the garden, almost large enough to be called a farm, carved out of the hillside behind the bus. Rows of vegetables, fruit. Unlikely combinations at the best of times, but in this blasted scrubland there was more than good luck and stewardship going on. There was threat. Threat to him, and to the stability he had created.

Hades completed his tour of the outside of the bus and pushed the door open and climbed up inside. The seats had been ripped out, and a counter put in – even a few tables in the back, covered in neat tablecloths. He took all this in at a glance, and then looked behind the counter. Behind the safe wall of his shades, he blinked, twice. Facing away from him, leaning over the stove, stirring a pot, was the slim shape of a young woman, tight jeans stretched over her rear, her hair falling in a loose light brown ponytail to the small of her back. Not what he had been expecting at all. He took a step towards the counter, and cleared his throat. She turned around and his breath caught. Just that simple motion was more graceful than any dance he’d ever seen. And then he looked at her face. Purity and innocence shone from the most beautiful dark brown eyes. In an instant, the decision was made. She would return with him to Hadestown. All that he had built meant nothing, if he did not possess her.

***

Oh yes, totally. Lunchtime customers at the Diner, on average, three. Lunchtime customers who drive up in a filthy great limousine, prowl around and then walk in like they own the place, on average, none. Of course I’d seen him. I’d spent most of the time checking that he hadn’t brought any artillery with him. And then working out how I was going to get him off guard. I might have been technically _pure_ back then, but I sure as ... here ... wasn’t innocent. I was nineteen years old. You think I got there without knowing _anything_?

I’ll tell you this about Hades: He’s as subtle as a baseball bat, but that doesn’t stop it working. It’s like one of those clocks with a transparent face – you can watch the cogs go around, watch them mesh and turn each other, watch the bits that swing from side to side – but the ticking never stops. It just goes on, hour after hour, day after day. I’ve seen Hades work his magic. I know every trick, every expression, every half-smile and every frown. I’ve known them since the moment he stepped out of that car. And yet when I’m in the firing line...

***

“What’s good to eat?” Hades asked, letting his voice rumble out like tectonic plates grinding slowly together. He’d sat down on one of the stools, without even looking at it.

“It’s all good,” the woman said, gesturing at the chalked up menu without turning away from him. “But the stew’s pretty fine, with the fresh baked flatbread.”

“Stew then,” he said. He let a long pause stretch, during which the girl made no effort to move to fetch his order. “Are you Demeter?” Of course, she wasn’t.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “That’s mom. She’s... busy, right now. Hope I’m good enough.”

Too obvious an opportunity, too obvious a line. “I’m sure we’ll do fine,” Hades said. “Just some stew, and the bread.” He lifted his head, telling her to get on with it, and was pleased to see that she did, turning away so he could admire her narrow waist again, look down her legs to the light tan western boots on her feet. She turned back, a steaming bowl on a tray, bread on a plate alongside. He glanced down at it for a moment, then back up at her. “I am Hades,” he said, watching her reaction. Mild curiosity, but no recognition. “I... look after Hadestown. You’ve heard of Hadestown?”

“Oh yeah,” she replied, revealing perfect teeth behind her smile. “Just south of here. Not been there. Maybe I will someday. Sounds like a place.”

“It is,” Hades said. “It is a little island of sanity in this torn-up world. A place where people can come and find shelter, work, food. It isn’t perfect. Where is? But it is a haven and a hope.”

***

I’d heard of it, and him, of course. From those who passed through, going there, seeking out the safety he offered. And occasionally, those who’d turned back at the gates, appalled by what they’d seen. Turning away from the easy route, and back to scrabbling in the dust for a meagre living.

It made me curious. Made me interested. And his voice... that voice that shivers and shakes you and makes you eager to hear it say just one more word. I wanted to come. As sure as I could see the offer coming down the rails, I wanted to come to Hadestown with him. But there was one little problem...

***

“Get out!”

Hades swivelled on the stool, and looked at the woman who was standing in the bus stairwell, glaring at him. Even in the heat, she appeared to be wearing two coats, and her fingers stuck out from green woollen mittens. Her grey hair was fighting a wispy battle to escape from beneath a tatty headscarf, and as she spoke, spittle flew from her lips.

“You filthy waste of space,” she continued, taking another step up into the bus. “You don’t eat here. You don’t come here. You’ve got your dirty little underground slum. Go back to it. Decent folks don’t want you near them. Get _out_.”

“Why, hello Demeter,” Hades replied, unsmiling. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“Out! And get away from my daughter. And stay away.”

Hades raised his hands, finally letting a smile show. “I’m going,” he said. “After this day, I shall leave you and your daughter here... unmolested.” He didn’t turn to look at the daughter again. He didn’t need to. He’d felt her reaction, her understanding, without words or sight. Now it was time to let the spell work. He walked back to the car.

“Jimmy,” he said, after the door closed. “A Mexican Aster. Just in case she has second thoughts when she gets here.”

***

I went, of course, at sunset. They’d parked the car just over the hill. I don’t know if mom knew that I was going to go or not. She didn’t say anything more to me once he’d left, just stomped out to her garden. I went because I wanted to escape. Because I wanted to see Hadestown. Perhaps because I thought I could make things better. Perhaps because I wanted to hear just one more word.

A mickey finn. A small yellow pill on the palm of a hand. I looked back at the bus, the light filtering from the window. I took the step. Took the Mexican Aster. It tasted like chocolate. Vanilla and chocolate. He wanted to capture me. I ... well ... I didn’t want to face my mother and say that I chose to leave her.

***

Hades sat watching her. She was laid out on his bed, only just showing signs of coming round. He was motionless, but aware of his own breathing and continually of her presence, her frame, her face. She was an orchid sitting in the palm of his hand: he could marvel at its beauty, or he could crush it, free the scent within. Crush it, and know it completely, in the moment of its destruction.

He sat watching her and, for the first time in a long while, was unsure of his path.

Her eyes opened. His remained hidden. He had never been more grateful of their concealment. He wanted to speak but could find no words to say, so remained quiet.

“Hi,” she said, breaking the silence for him. Her voice was still blurred from the drug, but there was a languorous air of pleasure too.

“Your mother is coming,” Hades said. “She tears the ground where she walks, her garden in ruins. Her passing leaves plants wilted, trees dead, vines barren.”

“Will you let me go back to her?” she asked, rolling onto her side to face him.

“No,” he tried to say, but could not make the word come. He took a breath and forced the words past his lips. “If I made you mine, you could not go,” he said, and was proud of the control in his voice.

Her eyes narrowed in response and she propped her head up on a hand. “Why don’t you?” she asked. He frowned. What did she mean by that? Had he worked his will better than he thought? He needed some kind of diversion to allow him to regain his composure.

“Would you like to see my little town?” he asked, rising from the chair and offering his hand to her. She sat up, reaching out to take his hand, opening her mouth to speak.

***

 You know when you’re just falling asleep, and there’s a jolt like the whole world has suddenly dropped a foot? That’s what I felt the first time we touched. And I could tell he felt it too. As soon as I was on my feet, our hands parted, and we didn’t touch as he gave me the dime tour of Hadestown. But I was thinking about that touch, and I knew he was too. Hey, it’s not the kind of thing you _stop_ thinking about.

If you think this town is a little grim now, you should have seen it then. The place was full of crap that someone had thought might be useful, or that Hades might want. Burnt-out cars, rusting old appliances. All the stuff that once had some value, scattered around like it had been raining scrap. The people wandered around, working on the wall when Hades could be bothered to make them, but otherwise aimless, dead-eyed and soulless. Sure, this may not be the best place on Earth. Hell, it may be the worst. But you have to live. You have to hope.

You know what I thought? I thought I could make a difference. And I was just beginning to get an idea of how.

***

Jimmy came up as they finished the tour. Hades was having some trouble breathing, his chest tight, his skin feeling like it had been sandpapered raw. Having her next to him, but being unable to touch her, to hold her, to grab her and pull her to him, was a constant effort.

“She’s here, boss,” Jimmy told him. Hades nodded, and gestured for Jimmy to leave. He didn’t need to turn and face her. That connection that had begun in the diner and had grown in the time they had spent together, had shot up in that one brief, painful, cathartic touch, meant that she knew.

“We don’t have much time,” she said. “She will want me back.”

“Do you want to go?” Hades asked, the words escaping from him before he had a chance to consider their impact.

“Kind of,” she replied, a curious, unreadable smile curving her lips. She beckoned him back towards the house that he had claimed as his seat of government and home.

Once back in the bedroom, she turned and faced him. “Do you want me to stay?” she asked, taking a step towards him. “What will you give me?”

Hades blinked behind his shades. Since they had returned to Hadestown, he had not felt in control. Not felt like he was the one calling the shots. He struggled to reassert his will. “You will be mine,” he said, “my consort ... my companion. My wife.” He hadn’t planned to say the last words: they had been pulled from somewhere deeper.

She cocked her head on one side, her nose wrinkled in thought. “Sounds good enough to me,” she said, and stepped closer to him, one finger lifting to stroke against his cheek. Then her finger traced down, along the line of his jaw, down the side of his neck. He stood, motionless, then lifted his hands and slowly removed his sunglasses. His gaze met hers unimpeded for the first time, and they were both still for a moment. Then she reached out again, and slowly undid the buckle of his belt. He leant back against the closed bedroom door, watching her, his shades dangling from the fingers of his hand. She looked down, breaking eye contact, and then dropped to her knees.

A moment later, he heard, distantly, the sound of his glasses striking the floor, but he felt no need to pick them up.

***

It worked pretty much like I always imagined it would, though there was a moment when I really wasn’t sure it was going to ... you know ... happen. And I was really aware there was a time limit.

So, anyway, we’re just about done when Mom blows half the wall down. Sure surprised Hades. Didn’t mention it at the time, but it kind of surprised me too: I didn’t know she could do that either. I just had enough time to check for incriminating evidence in the mirror and follow Hades down to the confrontation.

***

 “You filthy, disgusting piece of shit,” Demeter yelled at Hades, standing just outside of the gigantic hole she had blown in the perimeter wall. He wondered how long it would take to rebuild it, while at the same time holding up a hand to try to calm the vengeful mother down.

“What do you want?” he asked, when she’d stopped for a moment and was eyeing him suspiciously.

“My daughter back, scum.” she said. “My pure, beautiful child that you abducted.”

Hades frowned. “Pure?” he asked, wishing for his shades again.

“If you’ve harmed her I will blow this shithole to pieces and bury it beneath a hundred tons of dirt. And it and all of the countryside around will not flower or bear fruit for a thousand years.”

“And if she gave herself to me willingly? And wants to stay here?” He pitched his voice low, trying to soften the words. After all, this was still his sister, however much she hated him.

“She never would.”

Hades raised an eyebrow. “If she had, would you let her stay?”

“If she hasn’t, will you let her go?”

He nodded, and turned to where she stood watching. “Have you given yourself to me?” he said to her.

“Have you?” Demeter demanded.

Her daughter smiled that cat-got-the-cream smile, her lips curving deliciously. “Kind of,” she said.

***

And that’s the story. They argued a bit more, but they eventually decided that I’d tasted just enough of the forbidden fruit that they had to share me. Which was pretty much how I’d planned it. Now I spend half the year here, and half the year with Mom. It works out pretty well. I make sure that I bring some of the outside back with me each time. A little light, the last embers of summer. See, I **am** the crack in the wall.

Now, what was the question you asked? Oh yes. What’s my name? I’ll tell you my name...

**Author's Note:**

> In the end, it's not possible to entire avoid the problematic nature of the base myth. I've tried to write ambiguously - both the characters have agendas, and a biased view of what happened.


End file.
